Samuel Luman was one of the best-equipped
stage drivers on the Old Pike. His experience covers many of the
most exciting and interesting events in the roads history.
He commenced his career as a stage driver in 1832. He tells of
a collision with highwaymen in the mountains, which was attended
by thrilling details.

The following account was told in Thomas
B. Searights book, The Old Pike, written in 1894.

***************

On the 12th of August 1834, Mr. Luman was
on the road between Piney Grove and Frostburg, with a mail and
passenger coach going east. After nightfall, and at a point studded
by a thick growth of pine trees, he was confronted by a party
of footpads, five in number, and strange to relate, one a woman,
bent on felony.

The outlook was alarming.Luman carried no
firearms, and there was but one weapon among his passengers, a
small, brass pistol, not brought into requisition, as the sequel
shows.

The assailants had thrown across the road
an obstruction like a rude fence, made of logs, stumps and brush.
As Lumens trusty leaders approached the obstruction, one
of the highwaymen stepped out from his cover and seized a bridle,
and the coach was stopped. The assailant ordered Luman to descend
from his seat and surrender his charge. This he very politely,
but very decidedly, declined to do.

What do you want? queried Luman,
with seeming innocence. We are traders, was the response.

Well rejoined Luman, coolly,
I have nothing to trade; I am satisfied with my trappings,
and not desirous of exchanging them.

During this little parley the would-be robber,
who held a leader by the bridle, cried out to a partner in crime,
who was near at hand, though under cover of darkness, to shoot
the driver, and denounced him as a coward for not firing. The
party thus addressed then leveled a pistol at Luman and pulled
the trigger, but the result was nothing more than a snap,
the night air being damp and the powder failing to explode. These
favorable surroundings, no doubt, saved Lumans life.

The Footpads at the heads of the leaders
(horses) had, in the confusion and excitement of the moment, had
turned the horses squarely around, so that the leaders faced west,
while the wheel horses stood to the east. In this conjuncture
the party in charge of the leaders undertook to unhitch them,
and to guard against the movements of Luman, wrapped a driving
rein tightly around one of his arms. This was Lumans opportunity,
and summoning all his resources, he poured a volley of stinging
lashes upon his antagonist, smiting him on the face and arm, alternately,
and most vigorously. The bandit winced, and soon relinquished
his grasp, when, almost in the twinkling of an eye, the team under
Lumans skillful hands started up on a full run, leaping
the improvised fence, and speeding on, leaving the footpads behind
to lament their discomfiture.

Mr. Luman relates that in crossing the improvised
fence, he fairly trembled for the fate of himself and passengers,
as the coach was within an ace of capsizing. He also states that
the ruffian who seized his leader wore a gown that covered his
whole person, tied around the middle of his body with a belt,
and that another of his assailants wore a white vest, dark pantaloons,
and covered his face with a black mask. The other three kept in
the background during the attack, so that he is unable to recall
their appearance.

Mr. Luman further relates that when the
first assault was made on him, he apprized his passengers of the
impending danger and besought their assistance, but they crouched
in their seats and made no effort to aid him or defend themselves.
They were western merchants going east to buy goods, and had among
them as much as sixty thousand dollars in cash.

When the coach arrived safety at the Highland
House, Frostburg, George Evans at that time the proprietor thereof,
the grateful passengers took up a collection for the
benefit of their courageous and faithful driver and deliverer,
but Luman say the sum proffered was so ludicrously small that
he declined to receive it, and ever thereafter regarded that lot
of passengers as a mean set.